


This I Swear

by Tah the Trickster (TahTheTrickster)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackmail, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, The Mug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12659367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahTheTrickster/pseuds/Tah%20the%20Trickster
Summary: "We are healers, Doctor.""We are scientists first."Following the disappearance of one Amélie Lacroix, Angela is distraught beyond measure. Moira has an offer to help, but assistance has never come free or easy.





	This I Swear

"It really is such a tragic thing, isn't it?"

Angela's teeth ground together so tightly she could hear them. But she was tired of crying. She'd let herself have a solid day's worth of that when Amélie disappeared, she was through with it. It was exhausting and a waste of time and she wasn't going to do it anymore.

And she sure as  _ hell _ wasn't going to give Moira the satisfaction of seeing her overcome.

"Doctor O'Deorain," Angela greeted stiffly, straightening up and turning in her chair to give the entering woman a level stare. "I wasn't expecting you."

"So I see," she drawled, eyes sweeping critically over the office. Her nose crinkled with barely-restrained disgust. Angela determined that it was simply a gesture designed to irk her; she'd given the office a rare deep cleaning just two days ago, when she'd been too overwhelmed to work but too wired to sleep.

It did irk her, though. Dammit. "Can I  _ help you? _ " If Moira was just paying a visit to rattle her cage yet  _ again, _ particularly after so painful a loss, she might lose her temper entirely.

"So  _ testy. _ " Moira idly drew her nails along the edge of Angela's desk as she strode further into the office without permission, ignoring the glare Angela was burning into her back. "I simply wanted to see how you were doing, after so  _ tragic _ an event with... Mrs. Lacroix."

It took all the self-control Angela had not to flinch. "Amélie and I are very close friends," she said curtly, "of course I'm upset." Moira didn't know anything anyway. She could have her suspicions all she wanted, but Angela and Amélie had been very careful not to leave any trace of... anything.

"Oh, yes, so I've heard." Moira strode to the far wall to make a show of examining the multitude of framed diplomas hanging there. She shook her head disparagingly. "Honorary diplomas, Angela? Really? These are nearly worthless."

Angela felt a furious blush trying to light in her cheeks. "May I remind you that I oversee your department,  _ doctor? _ " She injected as much venom into the word as she could muster. "There is some amount of respect I must insist upon in a professional environment. If you'll adjust your gaze approximately three inches to the left, perhaps you could find a suitable title."

She felt some satisfaction at the sight of Moira's hands clenching to fists at her sides as she glanced at the M.D. and Ph.D. documents hanging there. Perhaps she'd struck a nerve. Good.

"My apologies,  _ Doctor Ziegler, _ " Moira grated out. "With all due respect, of course." The glance she cast in Angela's direction told her that the amount due was nearly zero.

"May I ask  _ again, _ how can I help you?" Angela repeated, lacing her fingers tersely on top of her desk. Moira turned, and in three quick strides, she was back before Angela's desk again. Angela met her gaze without flinching.

"Can I not simply stop by to check on Overwatch's  _ beloved child prodigy? _ " She caught Angela's chin in her grip, shaking slightly as though she were still a child. Angela batted the hand away, jaw set in a hard line, mouth opening to berate the gesture. Moira simply grinned. "I know how  _ difficult _ this whole kidnapping affair must be for someone with such an  _ intimate friendship _ as you had with Mrs. Lacroix." Angela's mouth snapped shut, her teeth grinding together again in fury. Moira's grin was approaching something feral. "You know, as broken up as Gérard is..." She reached out again, pushing Angela's bangs back behind her ear before cupping her cheek, forcing her to look up at her. "... _ You _ somehow seem even more so. Why  _ is _ that, Doctor?"

It was a bluff. It had to be. "I do not need to explain myself to you," she spat. "Particularly not in regards to  _ my _ friends."

Moira chuckled, looking all too delighted at her evident outrage. "Such a  _ passionate _ temper, Doctor." She leaned back, half-sitting on Angela's desk. "I can see why you and Mrs. Lacroix were such  _ close _ friends."

Angela's fists shook in her lap. 

" _ What do you— _ "

"Want?" Moira supplied, reaching into her coat pocket to withdraw a carton of cigarettes. The same brand as she ever had, Angela noted distantly. She recalled many a brainstorm session together out in the watchpoint courtyard's sidewalks, cigarette in one hand and sticks of chalk in the other. Her lip curled as Moira shamelessly lit up now in her office. "It's not really about what I want, not at the moment. It's more about... how we can help each other out." She ashed the cigarette into Angela's nearby mug without asking.

"I've told you all everything I know about the disappearance," Angela said sharply. "If Gabriel is asking again—"

Moira tutted softly, placating. "Gabriel doesn't even know I'm here, sweet." She brought the cigarette to her lips again, eyeing Angela with a lazy smile. "This is all off the record. I'm sure you understand."

"Then enough dancing around the subject."

"Hm. Here I thought you always liked dancing." She ashed the cigarette again and smiled at the unrestrained fury evident on Angela's face. She always knew just how to twist that knife and shatter Angela's mask of perfect professionalism. Angela reached out to snatch her mug away from her. Moira blew a thin wisp of smoke into her face. "I think I may have a way to ensure the survival of your... companion, while we continue to look for her."

Angela froze, arm still outstretched to take her mug. "...What?"

"Mrs. Lacroix," Moira clarified, smiling broadly. "Some of the research I have been doing under the Blackwatch banner has proven... useful. Your paper on nanobiotics was  _ fascinating, _ by the way." Angela glared, but said nothing. "It seems to me, however, that using the technology far more aggressively to improve the subject's survival chances in the case of kidnapping or disappearance could turn out a more favorable result th—"

"You're talking about modifying someone's genetic makeup on the fly?" Angela demanded, white-knuckled with fury as she stood. "Without their knowledge or consent."

Moira simply gave her a patronizing smile. "Always knew you were a clever girl."

"I won't allow it."

"No? Pity." She snuffed out the remainder of her cigarette on the ceramic, leaving it there. "You haven't worked against Talon as long as I have, I see."

Angela bristled. "I have dedicated the  _ whole _ of my professional career—!"

"You haven't been out in the field with Blackwatch, Doctor." Moira pushed herself up into a standing position, peering down at her, hands in her coat pocket. "You haven't seen what these monsters do to people, but you seem to think  _ I'm _ the one doing damage. The last kidnapping case we had, there wasn't enough of the man left to bury. Forget resurrecting." The color began to drain from Angela's face. Moira gave her a sarcastic smile. "But certainly, Doctor, I can respect your wishes. If you don't wish to share your further research on nanobiotics, I can hardly force you to do so. It would be, as you like to point out,  _ unethical _ . I suppose we can simply exhaust our usual methodology instead." She started towards the door. "Good day, Doctor Ziegler." She grabbed the handle.

"Wait—"

Moira paused.

Angela took a deep, shuddering breath. Her hands, splayed on her desk, slowly curled into fists. She stared down at them, trembling with exertion, knuckles paling again. Amélie had always hated when Angela formed a fist for much any reason. Would always take them in her own hands—softer, more delicate—and uncurl her fingers, pressing soft kisses to her knuckles and fingertips. Would finish the gesture with a gentle kiss to her lips, soothing away her ire.

The thought of never feeling Amélie's light touch on her hands again made Angela's stomach twist unpleasantly.

She sucked in a deep breath.

"I've... seen the side effects of your 'experiments,'" Angela pronounced slowly, a weary anger ebbing into her words. "I've seen how your genetic changes warp people. I've had to help so many of our own in indescribable pain because of what you did to them."

Moira sniffed derisively. "All in the name of progress, pet. It is not anything worse than what they would have experienced otherwise."

"We are  _ healers _ , Doctor."

"We are scientists first."

Angela grit her teeth hard, forcing herself not to form a fist again.  _ Not this time. _ "...Tell me she won't be hurt." She looked up finally, meeting that cold, distant gaze with blue flame in her eyes. "Your own experimentation is your own prerogative, but if you are using  _ my _ technology—it will not be used to do harm. I won't allow it. Particularly not for—" She bit her tongue hard enough to taste copper. "...Not for my family. Not again.  _ Never _ again." Angela straightened up entirely, palms flat on her desk. "Promise me that much. Promise me you will not allow any harm to pass her... and I will give you what you need." She held out a hand, fire still burning in her eyes. "Promise me."

Moira looked at her for a long moment, gaze moving idly between her proffered hand and her determined expression. At length, a slow, broad grin tugged at her features, and she clasped Angela's hand in her own, her already-cool skin downright frigid against Angela's artificially-raised body heat. The metal of her gauntlet nearly seared Angela's palm with its cold, but she did not flinch.

"Absolutely, Doctor Ziegler. You have my word." Angela didn't notice the way Moira's grin widened just a hair further, too wide, too stiff to be real. "Amélie won't feel a  _ thing. _ "


End file.
